


Twitter 2020 Prompts

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: A collection of short fictions based on dialogue prompts.1. "I'm not ready."2. "I found him outside."3. "Is that my underwear?"4. "It's not morning yet."
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 18
Kudos: 96





	1. I'm not ready

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to syniaie on twitter for this request. You can find me on twitter at a_azraelle

Gladio let go of the breath he'd been holding and tugged at his sleeve one more time. Nerves jumped in his gut like he had a bellyful of crickets. He pressed the doorbell and waited. Was the bouquet too much? It was probably too much. Maybe he should have brought wine instead, but he hadn't wanted to look like he intended to get Iggy drunk.

Did Iggy even own a vase? He'd never looked. He should have looked. Maybe some chocolates would have been a better idea? What was taking so long? Maybe he should ring the bell again?

The door opened, and a harried looking Ignis, flush faced and apologetic peered at him. “Gladio, I'm so sorry, I'm not ready.”

Gladio's eyes tracked down taking in the form fitted waistcoat and rolled sleeves of Ignis's usual work outfit. It wasn't a bad look on him. It was even better for the unfastened buttons at the top, and the veins Gladio could see tracking across Ignis's forearms. “It's cool,” he said, holding the bouquet out as if it would soothe Iggy's distress. He hated running late, it made him jumpy. “They'll hold the table.”

The door opened wider. “You didn't have to get me flowers.”

Gladio grinned and scratched at the back of his head, hoping the effect came off as more charming than nervous. “I figured since it's our first proper date,” he began, trailing off to let Ignis fill in the blanks for himself.

“Thank you,” Ignis said. Gladio's throat seized up, suddenly dry as he caught sight of Iggy's soft smile and green eyes fixed on him.

“Don't mention it,” he said, the words coming to him from some distant corner of his brain that was working overtime to stop him looking and sounding like a total buffoon right now. “You go get changed, I'll put these in some water.”

Iggy had a vase, because of course Iggy had a vase. Gladio pulled it out from under the kitchen sink and gave it a rinse, keeping one ear out for the sounds of Iggy getting changed. He remembered his mom telling him once that you had to cut the stems on flowers so they lasted longer, and he took his time, settling the blooms into their new home.

“Flower arranging too.” Gladio turned to see Iggy standing in the doorway, one hand resting casually on his hip. His pants were tight, leading Gladio's eye on a journey over curved muscle, letting him get lost where they hugged Iggy's slender waist. “Do your talents never end?”

Gladio was tempted to suggest they forget about dinner and skip straight to dessert. “If you're lucky you'll find out,” he retorted.

Iggy's smirk lit up the room and trailed fingers of anticipation down Gladio's spine. “It's only the first date,” he reminded him, “there'll be plenty of time for that later.”


	2. I found him outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kayo and NeedANewRecipe on twitter for this request.

Ignis was rarely the first one home. The rattle of his key in the lock was usually greeted with Gladio's deep voice welcoming him back. The sound was as effective as arms closing around him. Crossing the threshold changed the air, replacing the smell of Insomnia with that of their shared lives. The cologne Gladio had splashed on that morning still lingered, the washing powder from the drying laundry permeated the air, furniture polish and coffee added their base notes to the perfume of Ignis's happiness.

There was no booming greeting, no telltale footsteps on their way to warn Ignis of an incoming embrace. “Gladio?” The door clicked shut behind Ignis.

“I'm in here.” Gladio's voice was hushed, but clear. Ignis followed the sound. Two steps forward, right turn, six steps forward before turning left to draw alongside the couch. “Sorry, I was going to call you.”

“What's going on?” Ignis asked, taking a step nearer to Gladio's voice. He was sat on the sofa, keeping his voice down and his tone gentle in a way Ignis had only heard when Gladio was doing his level best not to disturb him.

“Give me your hand.”

Ignis complied automatically. Questions as to why he should give Gladio his hand only came to his lips after he'd done it. Rough but warm, gentle fingers closed around his own, and then urged Ignis to reach down. Gladio tugged Ignis's hand down towards his lap. Ignis's eyebrow began to rise.

He jerked his hand away. The touch of soft fur was unexpected under his fingertips. “Is that--?” he asked, reaching down again, slowly, until he could be sure of what he'd felt. There was something warm and small curled up in Gladio's lap, covered in fur. As Ignis's hand moved over it, it began to vibrate.

“I found him outside,” Gladio explained. “He was soaking wet from the rain, and I couldn't see his mom anywhere.”

Ignis felt his heart melting. The kitten couldn't be more than a few weeks old. He was bigger than Ignis's hand, but not by much. The steady rumble of his purrs became audible as he was petted; a small but persistent noise that changed pitch with each tiny breath. “I suppose we'll have to find a shelter,” he said, easing himself down onto the sofa beside Gladio. The heat of Gladio's body had radiated out, and Ignis could feel the warmth of Gladio's thigh scant inches from his own.

“Or,” Gladio said, and stopped. Ignis turned his head, so that if his eyes worked he'd be looking at him. “He's black, Iggy, and shelters have a hard time rehoming black cats.”

Ignis breathed in slowly, gathering himself to disagree. “We are both too busy for a pet,” he pointed out. They'd considered a dog, a service animal, but Ignis got along well enough and they'd decided that keeping an animal to the hectic schedules of their lives wasn't fair.

“I can come home,” Gladio countered, “check on him, feed him. He's a cat, so he won't need walks.”

Ignis managed a scowl, but his heart wasn't in it. On the days that Gladio wasn't home first it would be nice to return to something waiting for him, and he expected Gladio felt the same way. He made to stroke the rumbling ball of fur nestled in Gladio's lap again and met paws that batted at his fingertips. He waggled his fingers at the kitten. “Fine,” he said, “but you're responsible for the litter tray. I'm not fishing around in one.”

Gladio's laugh was low, and genuine. “Deal,” he said. The sofa dipped as Gladio leaned in, and Ignis's cheek was graced with soft lips and the brush of wiry stubble. “Thanks.”

“You can thank me later,” Ignis replied.


	3. Is that my underwear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to musterings for this request.

Ignis awoke slowly. He was warmer and more comfortable than he'd ever felt in his life. The bed seemed to swallow him. A heavy weight hung over his stomach and draped over his thigh, pinning him into the bed.

He opened his eyes, memories of last night seeping back as he came round. It hadn't been planned. It was meant to be a date, drinks, a walk through the park, a kiss on the doorstep. One kiss had become two, and three, and an invite inside for one last drink that they'd never actually got. They'd made out on Gladio's sofa until Ignis had lost his reasons for going home to the delightful fog of Gladio's fingers and tongue.

They'd made it from the sofa to the bedroom. He'd seen Gladio in a state of undress dozens of times before, and fantasised about this moment a hundred times more. His fantasies had paled in comparison to the heat of Gladio's thighs against his own, and the weight of his arms around his back. Gladio's fingers were callused but gentle, and his lips were soft. His beard had been coarse against the hollow of Ignis's throat, and his gasps of pleasure had been music in Ignis's ears.

Ignis could still remember the taste of Gladio's cock on his tongue, and the tender grip of his fingers in his hair. He closed his eyes again, revelling in the dull ache of his body where Gladio had crushed him into the bed with kisses, letting Ignis feel his whole body as he stroked him to his own shivering end.

Ignis turned his head in the pillow, smiling at the sleeping face of the man his heart had tripped over itself for. His face was mashed into the pillow, his mouth open, a steady stream of snores half muffled into the fabric. Even in this state Gladio was beautiful. His long eyelashes brushed his cheek, and his hair fell over his forehead.

With a steadying inhale Ignis began to move, sliding himself out from under Gladio's arm and leg. The mattress creaked its warnings, but Gladio's snores continued uninterrupted. Ignis's skin chilled without the blanket of Gladio's embrace, but slowly and carefully he freed himself and then covered Gladio over with the sheets.

It hadn't been planned, and so the only clothes he had were the ones he'd worn for their date. His socks, underwear, trousers, and shoes betrayed his and Gladio's path to the bed. Ignis picked them up and winced. He could wear them at a push, but the stains of arousal marked his underwear and his trousers, and he'd be horrified if he was seen in them.

Perhaps he could give them a quick scrub? Once they'd dried they should suffice until he got home and could change. His fantasies had never included doing impromptu laundry in Gladio's sink, but then, he'd never got as far as considering the morning after.

He went to the bathroom and dropped them in the basin. It felt wrong to prowl around Gladio's home in the nude, and a fit of self consciousness had him cast around for something to pull on while he washed his clothes and allowed them to dry.

One of Gladio's crownsguard hoodies was draped over the shower rail, along with a handful of other clothes that must have been yesterday's gym laundry. He doubted Gladio would mind his borrowing it for an hour or so, and with a little luck his own things would be dry before Gladio awoke.

Tugging the hoodie over his head and sliding his arms into it made his throat tighten. The top swamped him. The sleeves hung down to his fingers and he pushed them up to his elbows. The hem brushed the tops of his thighs indecently. Gladio always made it easy to forget how large and imposing a man he truly was. His smile and gentle nature hid so much of his frame. Ignis himself wasn't small, and yet he felt it in Gladio's clothes.

He tugged a pair of shorts down from the rail too and slid them up his legs. They were probably a tight fit on Gladio, but on himself the material was loose, and the bottom of them came down just low enough that it provided that extra inch of cover that the hoodie lacked.

Finally he ran the tap, letting hot water spill over the stains of last night's activities that remained on his clothes. He needed to brush his teeth too, but Ignis couldn't see a spare toothbrush. No matter, clothing first, and while that dried he'd raid Gladio's kitchen to put together breakfast.

The click of a camera shutter dragged Ignis from his thoughts. He turned sharply to see Gladio in the doorway, grinning at his phone. He felt as if he'd been caught, trapped in the moment with his hands in Gladio's sink scrubbing at his underwear.

“Morning,” Gladio said, his grin wide and dazzling.

“Did you just take a picture?” Ignis asked, his surprise rapidly dissolving into incredulity.

Gladio leaned one broad shoulder against the doorframe. His grin didn't slip, but his eyes moved downwards to the floor before raking back up. “Damn right,” Gladio answered. “It's not every day I get to see this.”

Ignis turned away. He could feel heat starting to build in his cheeks and he cleared his throat as quietly as he could, trying to force the heat away. “You were asleep,” Ignis answered, defensively.

“The bed got cold,” Gladio replied. Ignis heard the brush of movement as Gladio leaned off the doorframe and stepped inside the bathroom. He didn't dare look up at Gladio. If he did, he'd either blush furiously like some maiden in one of Gladio's books, or never be able to look away again.

The hem of the hoodie lifted. Gladio's hand slipped underneath and settled against Ignis's spine. He twitched with surprise, but the heat was welcome. Gladio moved in the periphery of his vision, his head tilting as he bent sideways to take an unashamed look at the curve of Ignis's rear that he'd uncovered.

“Is that my underwear?”

Ignis swallowed. “I couldn't very well walk around naked,” he defended.

“I wouldn't complain.” Gladio's hand drifted down until it settled against Ignis's buttock, and then gave a firm squeeze. “This is better, though.”

Ignis swallowed. “You're incorrigible,” he told him, trying to hold on to his dignity, as if he hadn't shed it as eagerly as his clothing the night before.

Gladio's fingers squeezed again. “My hot boyfriend's wearing my underwear, I'd say I'm being incorriged.”

Ignis looked at him, at last. There was a spark of humour in Gladio's eyes that settled in Ignis's chest and made his heart stumble. “That isn't a word.”

“It should be, for what you do to me,” Gladio answered. He leaned forward.

Ignis leaned back. “I haven't brushed my teeth.”

Gladio didn't retreat. “I don't care,” he said, before continuing his advance.

His lips met Ignis's, and Ignis closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the warmth of it. Gladio's arm slid up his back and around his waist, tugging him closer. Ignis allowed his lips to part and Gladio's tongue brushed against the tip of his own tenderly. A sigh escaped Ignis's nose as he let himself get drawn in.


	4. "It's not morning yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to lilium_elendir for the prompt. I hope you enjoy this one.

Gladio awoke to the sound of rustling. The unusual noise drove a spike of alertness through his brain, as effective as a scream in the distance. A shadowy figure moved in the gloom.

“What are you doing?”

The figure froze, and then Ignis's voice whispered back to him, “I should go.”

Gladio groaned, sitting up in bed. He didn't remember falling asleep. He and Iggy had been out for a couple of drinks, taken a walk through the park, hit up a late night noodle bar, had a couple more drinks and then failed to say goodbye on Gladio's doorstep. The kiss had been expected, Ignis's lips pressing softly against his own so that Gladio smelled his cologne, and the lingering whisky on his breath. He'd pulled Ignis into his arms and kissed him again, his tongue sliding into Ignis's welcoming mouth and his hands sliding under his jacket.

Ignis's hands had slid under his shirt. Gladio's pants had grown tight with the heat and friction of Ignis's body in his arms, and his dick had bypassed his brain and issued its instructions directly to his mouth.

“Do you wanna come inside?”

He didn't want to forget the look on Ignis's face for as long as he lived. Wide green eyes darkened by blown pupils locked onto his. Gladio could read every thought, every reason not to do this racing across Ignis's mind. He was the rational one, the strategist. He was led by his head where Gladio was led by his heart and Gladio loved that about him.

“Yes.”

They'd tumbled onto Gladio's bed, clothes scattered all over the floor, hands exploring every inch of each other's bodies. He'd tasted the salt of Ignis's skin on his tongue, and swallowed his gasps of pleasure with kisses, taking them and locking them away in his memory forever. Ignis's skin was pale in the darkness, his body firm under Gladio's hands, his fingers talented as he touched Gladio for the first time. 

He'd held Ignis in his arms as they'd both regained their breath, murmuring sweet nothings and endearments against Ignis's throat. Gladio didn't remember ever feeling so warm and comfortable and then...

“It's not morning yet,” he whispered, reaching out for Ignis.

The figure of Ignis resolved itself from shadows into a pale outline of limbs and chest as Gladio drew closer. “All the more reason I should go now,” Ignis replied, so hushed he was barely audible even to Gladio, “before someone catches us.”

Gladio found Ignis's arm under his hand, taking it gently and urging him closer to the bed. He knelt up, finding Ignis's chest with his other hand and following the line up to his neck, his jaw, his cheek.

“Let them catch us.”


End file.
